This Side of Paradise
by fyren galan
Summary: When Hermione and Ron said that Harry was obsessed with Malfoy, they had no idea how right they would be some day. Insane!Harry, tortured!Draco, heavy gore, violence, one-sided slash, not-a-happy-story. Rated M for a reason.


**WARNING:** rather severe gore, death, insanity, mutilation, starvation, injury, and stalkerish tendencies.

This is not a happy story, kiddos. It's ugly. It's disgusting.

But I needed to get it out of my head.

I don't if I'll continue it or not.

This Side of Paradise

Draco screamed, as his arm was ripped away from his body. Blood dripped from the gaping hole as he fought unconsciousness.

Harry lightly slapped his cheek. "Can't have you falling asleep now, can we?" he crooned. "My precious little sweet has to stay awake for the grand finale."

Harry giggled. "Isn't this exciting, Draco? Now I can hold your hand whenever I want to! Whoever said Malfoys weren't romantic? People will say, 'Oh, he doesn't really love you. He's just using you!' And then I can pull this out and say, 'He does too love me! Look! He even gave me his arm so that I can hold his hand whenever I get lonely!' Won't that just be great, Draco?"

Harry laid down on Draco's lap, looking at the face above him with utter adoration. "Some people might say you're not beautiful, Draco. Those people are just stupid. I mean, look at your aristocratic angular face. Your cheekbones are so defined that I could cut myself with them! And some people might find the blue veins sticking out vividly from your skin disgusting, but I say blue blood is a proper sign of Pureblood breeding! Isn't that right, Draco?"

Draco shook with fear and agony constantly. The pain in the place where his arm once was wasn't dulling at all, but that wasn't why he shook. He hadn't shaken when his legs had been chopped off at the knee, so he couldn't kick Harry anymore. He hadn't shaken when his hair was pulled out by the roots so that Harry could see 'all of his beautiful head.'

No, he shook because of the look in Harry's eyes, staring up at him from an unspeakably beautiful face. The look that threatened to get bored with him someday, and just leave him in that dungeon. Draco didn't care about his own life anymore. He didn't really call it a life. Or an existence. He didn't care enough to call it anything.

But somewhere along the line, he discovered he cared for other people. People he never thought he would care for. Like Weasleys. He glanced over to the corner of the room, at the man who was his best friend and a Weasley. Or used to be.

Harry followed his glance, and smiled happily. "Now you can share jokes with George! I had forgotten about that. Who's holier now, George? Eh?" he cried across the room.

Harry got up from Draco's lap, and strode across the room. Raising the decaying flesh that was once a hand, he shook it at Draco, and said in a slightly deeper voice, "Now, Draco. Don't go thinking you're holier than _me_. I'm Saint George, after all."

Harry fell on the ground, taking the hand with him, and laughed hysterically. "Saint George! Oh! That was funny!"

Draco stared in resignation. It didn't matter if he closed his eyes. It would probably be worse. Then he would see George again…

oOo

_Draco strained desperately against the manacles. His foot was so close to touching the water jug, but missed by an inch. George lay sunken in his own flesh, no longer able to sit up, his hands hanging uselessly by his head. The hole on the side of his face seemed to sneer at Draco, as if saying his efforts to save George were as futile as George hearing from that side. Or for that matter, as George living. _

_George coughed, a quiet, rattling sound in the dungeon. He rasped, "It's no use, mate. Best give up. It doesn't matter if I get water, anyway. You know he'll kill me eventually. He just doesn't like redheads. Besides, I think he's jealous."_

_Draco screamed in frustration. "Jealous of what!? The fact that I have a friend for the first time in my life and that said friend will probably die in front of me some time today or tomorrow? What kind of sick bastard could be jealous of that?"_

_George attempted to laugh, but a hollow wheeze was all that came out. "I think it's just the friend part that he's jealous of. And need I remind you that Harry Potter is a sick bastard?"_

_Draco slumped against the wall. "Why the fuck is he doing this? You don't need to die! I would do anything for you to live! Anything!"_

"_Do you hear me?" he screamed at the door. "Anything!" _

_George sighed. "It doesn't matter what you would do, Draco. He's got you chained to a wall. I'd say he can do what he likes with you. It's basically the fact that you care for me. Even as a friend."_

"_Do me a favor?" George asked seriously. "When I'm gone –yes, Draco. I'm going to die. We both know it.- don't ever care for anyone again. Maybe if you don't, he'll stop killing people. And I'd really like this on my record so that I can tell St. Peter that I stopped a mass murderer. I think that'll get me into heaven."_

_Draco nodded without a hesitation. He didn't think he could care for anyone after George, anyway. There was no room left in his shriveled heart for anything but George's memory. _

_Draco snorted, trying to lighten the mood. "Seriously, at this point you could rescue the Virgin Mary from a natural disaster or a rapist, and you wouldn't get into heaven. Look at you. You're clearly a dead-sexy womanizer." _

_George chuckled. That started a whole chain of coughs and gasps. George's chest strained for air, trying to get oxygen. Draco lunged away from the wall, yelling for help, water, God, anything. He tore the skin around his wrists trying to break out of the manacles. _

_George's body shuddered, and then it stopped. He slumped against the wall, his frame now soulless, but a smile still on his face. _

_Draco howled at the ceiling. He wracked his frame and tore furiously at his wrists and ankles. He bashed his head against the wall and watched the blood trickle in front of his eyes, clouding his vision. He sighed in satisfaction, as more blood pooled around him. He would join George soon. _

_And then the door opened. As Draco began to lose consciousness, he saw a man kneel down and smile at him. Draco felt the dulling edge of healing spells eat at his skin. _

_No! Draco had to die! He couldn't let this happen to anyone else! He began to fight furiously against the man, the magic, the medicine. His body straining to get away, run away, fly away from the demon. _

_The man muttered a spell, and Draco felt his limbs become heavy and water-logged. The drying blood was cleaned tenderly from his eyelids. As he fell into an induced sleep, he saw loving green eyes that whispered to him, "Sleep, sweetheart. Now there's no one in our way. We can be happy now. We can live forever in love. Harry won't let anyone touch his precious Dragon…"_

oOo

Draco narrowed his blood-shot eyes at the man rolling on the floor. He had made a vow. He wouldn't hurt anyone else. He couldn't let Harry get bored with him. He had to keep him entertained.

Draco whispered, in a voice husky from both overexertion and under use, "Harry. Come here."

Harry immediately sat up, his eyes bright with curiosity and the ever-present insanity. He crawled over to Draco, and asked breathily, "What is it? Do you want to tell me you love me? Do you want to make love? You know I would let you go in an instant if you just let your foolish morals go, and listened to your heart's desire. I know you want to be with me."

Draco took a deep breath, and as Harry nodded eagerly and said, "Yes?" repeatedly, he spat in his face.

Harry froze, the spit running down his face. His fingers rose up tremblingly to touch the wetness. And then he smiled.

Draco sighed in relief. The spark was back in Harry's eye. He wouldn't tire of Draco anytime soon.

As the flesh around his ribs melted away, he closed his eyes and thought of George in heaven. Making jokes with the angels about his holiness.

And waiting for Draco to join him.


End file.
